Chương 42: The Master Without Armor

Regaining access to S-Power was a pleasant development for me, but honestly, it did not set off fireworks in my head. I did not feel helpless without that extra boost. My own muscles had not gone anywhere. Besides, my [Special Commands] and [Tactical Mode] still operated on a daily limit, so I was never truly defenseless. In my case, S-Power was more like a convenient gadget. It let me scan people and pull scraps of information out of them, scraps that usually turned out to be completely useless.

The other cadets, however, reacted as if they had been given back their eyesight or the ability to breathe properly again. Such happy smiles bloomed across their faces that it almost became awkward to watch. Even Mary, who was always cold and buried in calculations, let out the faintest breath, and something close to relief flickered in her eyes. The moment they felt the surge of power return, the others immediately began stretching their abilities like numb limbs waking up after a long sleep.

"Finally!" Ted bared his teeth in a predatory grin, and his fists were instantly wrapped in a white, violently sparking haze.

"Now we're talking! I'm gonna roast this whole place! Time to light it up!" I was standing only a couple of steps away from him, and dry, scorching heat immediately washed over my skin. It felt as though I had stepped right beside a welding torch or an open industrial oven. Some instinctive sense of danger stirred inside me. This was untamed, feral energy begging to be unleashed.

"Damn, I missed you so much, buddy," Nick murmured almost tenderly. I lowered my gaze and saw his shadow on the grass suddenly gain volume before casually waving at him like a real person. The sight was both creepy and mesmerizing. I was already preparing to see what the girls could do, but Master Smith suddenly slammed his fist into his palm again. The inner hum of energy inside my cells cut off instantly. S-Power dropped back into complete lockdown.

"No special effects during my classes," Sam's voice rang out loudly and authoritatively, overpowering the disappointed groans.

"Here, we'll focus exclusively on general techniques available to any S-Power user, regardless of profile."

"Wait, Master Smith," Louisa looked up at him in surprise.

"Wasn't hand-to-hand combat class over already? We're outside now." Sam flashed her a dazzling smile, sunlight gleaming off his bald head.

"You're absolutely right, Louisa. But luckily for all of you, I happen to teach another subject at this camp."

"Which, let me guess, is another optional course without a mandatory exam?" Mary inserted. She had not left, but skepticism still lingered in her voice.

"Exactly," Sam replied without the slightest offense, looking surprisingly good-natured.

"But this time, I strongly recommend everyone stay. Just wait until you see what I'm offering."

"I've got a question, Master!" Ted shot his hand up like a schoolboy in class.

"How do you do that? You know, the on-off trick? You smack your hand and bam, we're regular mortals again. Is that your superpower or do you have some jammer remote hidden in your pocket?"

"That's my ability, Ted," Sam admitted easily.

"And if you attend my classes without skipping, maybe I'll explain it in more detail someday."

"Deal!" The loud teenager was clearly hooked. Watching the exchange, I actually started sympathizing with Sam. I could see the situation perfectly clearly. Headquarters obviously did not consider his discipline a priority. In a world where portal monsters could tear through steel, throwing punches looked almost archaic. They had given him only a couple of hours a week, a laughably short amount of time to turn these kids into martial arts masters.

In reality, he was basically operating as a volunteer, technically an adult but stripped of any real leverage. He had no authority to order us around, no ability to threaten us with exams. That meant he had to switch into nice-guy mode and be as charismatic and entertaining as possible just to keep the attention of this crowd of hormonal superheroes. I would have given up on all of this long ago, but Sam was different.

"I'm activating S-Power access again," Sam warned, studying the line of cadets carefully.

"But here's the deal: nobody spends a single drop of energy until I give the order. Understood?"

"Yes, sir, Master Smith!" we barked in unison. Another strike of fist against palm, and I felt the familiar electric sting spread through my entire body. The energy returned, filling my muscles with their usual sharp tension. I desperately wanted to activate the scanner and check Sam's stats, along with everyone else's. Curiosity burned inside me, but I crushed it through sheer willpower. Even if the system worked unnoticed by others, I did not want to break discipline.

What if every single unit of energy actually mattered in his methodology? Besides, I already knew the important part. Their S-Power reserves were several times, maybe even dozens of times, higher than mine. As for physical condition, I could judge that the old-fashioned way by simply watching how they moved.

"As you already know from the introductory course, any activation of your abilities burns S-Power," Sam began, pacing in front of us.

"Let me put it into terms everybody understands. Your power's like a high-performance combustion engine. It needs fuel. But fuel's universal. You can pour gasoline into a muscle car and burn rubber on the highway, or you can use it to run a generator, a chainsaw, or a water pump. Same energy, different applications." We listened in complete silence. Car analogies never failed.

"But it's easier to show you once than spend hours lecturing," Sam nodded to himself and pointed toward a massive concrete block standing at the edge of the training field.

"Watch carefully." He assumed a strange combat stance, almost balletic, something straight out of old Shaolin movies. Slowly, he extended his clenched fist toward the concrete slab. I barely noticed the air around his hand beginning to distort with a transparent trembling haze, exactly like the shimmer above scorching asphalt somewhere in Nevada at noon.

"Ki-yah!" The short explosive exhale sounded like a gunshot crack. The air lens launched from his fist like an invisible cannon shell. BOOM! The concrete block nearly a hundred yards away simply exploded into fragments. The shockwave was so powerful that a visible trench appeared in the grass beneath the projectile's trajectory. It did not resemble a bullet impact. It looked like a direct rocket launcher hit.

Ted could not hold back and clapped enthusiastically, only to stop himself when Nick jabbed him hard in the ribs with an elbow.

"This is a technique that uses pure, unfiltered S-Power," Sam said with a smile as he watched our stunned faces.

"And every single one of you can learn it. It doesn't matter whether your specialization's offensive, defensive, or support-oriented. I'll teach you how to turn the energy inside your body into a weapon."

"Excuse me, Master, I've got a question," Nick adjusted his glasses, looking like the perfect nerdy honor student.

"Professor Langstrom showed us the S-Gun earlier today. The effect looked identical to me. Why should we learn to do this with our hands?"

"Because Professor Langstrom designed her S-Gun using my personal parameters as the foundation," Sam declared smugly, planting his hands on his hips. At that moment, he looked like the absolute king of this field.

"Don't you wanna master the original instead of some pathetic imitation?"

"But why?" Nick frowned.

"They're already teaching us to use firearms. Besides, weapons draw energy from replaceable canisters instead of draining our personal reserves. That makes more sense." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Canisters have a nasty habit of running out at the worst possible moment," Sam cut in, his voice turning serious.

"Your body, however, is always with you. Besides, heavy armor and oversized weapons are crutches. You'll never be able to do this in full gear!" Then the real show began. Sam literally launched himself into the air. He was not flying in the usual sense. He was walking on invisible steps, creating brief solid platforms of S-Power beneath his feet. Every movement came with a short whooshing sound.

He climbed higher and higher, then suddenly dove downward, releasing compressed bursts of energy straight from the soles of his feet. He moved at unbelievable speed, unleashing strike after strike into empty air. It looked like a machine-gun barrage made of fists. The air groaned under the pressure, while chunks of earth and uprooted grass blasted outward beneath his feet. His aerial parkour looked ten times more graceful and faster than the sergeant's clumsy jumps in heavy power armor.

This was pure, concentrated power.

"Holy shit!" Ted shouted once the echo from the destroyed concrete block finally faded.

"Man, that was insane! I wanna do that too!"

"Me too!" Louisa chimed in excitedly, her eyes shining.

"And we don't even need to wear that giant heavy suit for it? Master Smith, please teach me!" Sam grinned broadly, clearly satisfied with the effect he had created. He looked like a magician whose greatest trick had just earned a standing ovation.

"With great pleasure," he nodded.

"But fair warning, technique starts with the basics. First things first: shoes off. All of you." We obediently began untying our heavy military boots. A minute later, I felt cool, slightly damp grass beneath my bare feet. It pleasantly tickled my skin, reminding me of those rare weekends when it was possible to escape to a park far away from the city's concrete sprawl.

"Hey, why aren't you leaving?" Nick leaned closer to Mary, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"You said it yourself, this's an optional class. No grades, nothing goes on the record. So what's the point of hopping around barefoot on the lawn?"

"It's not about grades, Nick." Mary threw him a brief, almost contemptuous glance without taking her eyes off Sam.

"Unlike punching a boxing bag, this's an actual tool. This's the kind of thing that can save your ass when the electronics in your armor suddenly decide to die." Nick gave a confused grunt but did not argue. Meanwhile, I once again noted just how much Mary stood apart from the others. Everyone else in this group was like an open book to me, ordinary teenagers, yesterday's schoolkids ripped out of shopping malls and video games so they could be hastily molded into soldiers. But Mary... there was steel inside her.

She behaved like a veteran of several war zones who already knew the value of life and refused to waste time on things with no practical use. In fact, when I had gone looking for them in the library, she had been the only one not playing shooters. Instead, she had been carefully studying some thick manual. Meanwhile, Sam dragged over a pile of ordinary wooden crates from somewhere nearby. Judging by the markings, they were the kind usually used to deliver canned soup to military cafeterias.

"Alright, people, grab one each. Stand on top and close your eyes." We lined up, balancing on the shaky boards. I closed my eyes, and the world narrowed down to the sound of light wind and the breathing of the others nearby.

"Now slowly stretch your right leg forward. Straight into empty space," Sam's calm voice sounded beside my ear.

"Search for balance. Your goal's to keep your foot suspended without letting it drop. Feel support where there isn't any."

"Dios mio!" Louisa squeaked in panic.

"I'm gonna fall!" I cracked one eye open and saw Sam instantly appear beside her, skillfully offering his shoulder so she would not lose balance.

"Easy, Louie. It's only a six-inch drop," he encouraged her in a soft, fatherly tone.

"Besides, I've got you. Don't be afraid to mess up." Louisa smiled guiltily, and the exercise continued.

"Now for the most important part." Sam resumed walking along the line.

"Imagine all your energy, all that S-Power humming inside your cells, slowly flowing downward toward the soles of your feet. Gather it into a single point. Visualize a solid surface directly beneath your foot. Then step. If your confidence and concentration align, S-Power'll create density on its own."

"Ah, damn it!" Ted growled. A dull thud followed as the boy lost balance and jumped down onto the grass. Nick and Louisa followed immediately after him, judging by the sounds of stumbling and irritated muttering.

"It's alright, guys. That's normal. Most people can't do it on the first try, or even the tenth," Sam continued encouraging them as he walked past the line.

"Just don't give up. Remember, your survival instinct's your greatest ally. Make it believe there's solid ground there."

"So that's why we trained Elevation Mode in boots this morning?" Nick guessed while climbing back onto his crate.

"Exactly, kid. Now your brain knows what it's supposed to feel like. All that's left is reproducing that sensation without electronics." I took a deep breath, trying to clear unnecessary thoughts from my mind, and tensed my leg, preparing to step into nothingness. Then, deep inside my consciousness, the message I had been waiting for more than anything appeared: [Warning! Specific electrical activity detected in the familiar.] [Trainer adjusting micro-movements to achieve peak electromechanical efficiency.] I felt invisible, razor-thin threads running along my calves and feet. It was not painful. It felt more like light physical therapy or an extremely precise massage. The system was literally taking control of my muscles, directing streams of S-Power exactly where they were needed. I felt a dense concentration of energy gathering just beneath the skin of my foot. One step. And I did not fall. My foot froze in midair, resting against an invisible yet absolutely solid surface.

"You did it? On your first try?" Sam's voice sounded so genuinely shocked that everyone else immediately opened their eyes and stared at me.

"Holy shit, Tom! That's absolutely phenomenal!" I wanted to enjoy the moment of triumph, but after a second and a half, the step beneath my foot simply evaporated, and I crashed onto the grass. My tiny S-Power reserve had burned out completely in an instant. Fortunately, from the outside it only looked as though I had lost concentration.

"Holy crap, Tom! How'd you pull that off?" Ted immediately jumped down from his crate and rushed at me with questions.

"Come on, spill it! What's the secret? Some kind of special meditation?" The teenagers crowded around me in a tight circle. My thoughts raced frantically. What was I supposed to tell them? The truth? That I was basically a fraud with an assistant program inside my head doing all the work for me? Absolutely not. Reputation took a long time to build and only seconds to destroy. I glanced briefly at Sam. He stood a short distance away, blinking slowly.

He had read my file and clearly understood that skill had nothing to do with this. It was all because of my unusual ability to copy techniques.

"Guess experience helped," I said, trying to make my voice sound as confident as possible.

"You know, when you practice martial arts, you start understanding balance and your own body better. This's just another kind of stretching, only energy-based."

"Hey, Sam!" Ted shouted, inspired by my example.

"Put me in the front row! I'm definitely not skipping your classes anymore!"

"Me too!"

"Same here!"

"With pleasure, children, with pleasure." Sam spread into a kind, almost grandfatherly smile.

"There's enough room for everyone in my dojo." Apparently, I had improved his reputation a little. While everyone made noise around me, I noticed Mary. She was not participating in the general excitement. Silently, with almost frightening determination, she rose four steps into the air. Her platforms were uneven, flickering and trembling as though they might disappear at any second, but she held them together through sheer willpower. Then she descended again with the same methodical precision.

Sam's steps, and mine while the system had been active, were perfectly smooth and monolithic. But Mary's result for a beginner was completely beyond reason.

"How'd you do that?!" Ted switched targets instantly, swooping toward her like a seagull attacking a bag of chips.

"What, do you have a black belt in some secret martial art too?"

"Get lost, Ted," she replied coldly without even looking at him.

"Go back to your crate and stop bothering me."

"There's one thing I don't get," Nick said while watching Mary's next ascent.

"If this skill's really that useful and awesome, why isn't it mandatory for everyone? Why's there no exam?" Everyone fell silent and looked at Sam. He resembled a man caught stealing cookies from a jar.

"Well... it's all about time," he admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"For an average cadet, creating the first stable step usually takes about a month. Learning to climb confidently takes a year. And running through the air the way I do... that takes around three years of daily practice."

"Three years?!" Ted howled.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Are they planning to keep us in this camp until we're adults?"

"Of course not," Sam reassured him.

"That's exactly why you've got S-Armor. The suit lets you achieve the same results today just by pressing a couple of buttons. Passing the armor certification's the priority. Martial arts, though... that's for the soul. I'll give you the basics and show you the exercises, but the rest depends on you. If you wanna keep practicing at home after graduation, that's your choice. But here's my advice: don't abandon it. Technology can fail you. Your body never will."

The teenagers gloomily trudged back toward their crates. Their earlier enthusiasm had noticeably faded. The prospect of training for years just to master a single skill was not particularly appealing to a generation accustomed to web pages loading instantly. I even envied them a little. Their enormous reserves allowed them to bash their heads against that wall until nightfall if necessary. My own tank, meanwhile, was as empty as a college student's wallet at the end of the month.

I had to step aside so I would not get in the others' way or expose my own weakness. I sat down on a bench when Sam unexpectedly approached me. His expression was unusually serious.

"Listen, Tom... how about another sparring match?" he asked quietly.

"Why?" I looked at this maniac tiredly.

"Sam, you saw it yourself. I've gotta hold back so the training session doesn't turn into an accident."

"That's exactly why I'm suggesting we level the playing field a little." Sam lowered his voice conspiratorially and narrowed his eyes with a sly grin.

"This time, no S-Power suppression. I'll only wear my kimono... and you'll put on your S-Armor. Full combat armor against a master. So, Tom? Wanna risk finding out whose kung fu's stronger?"